t nothing. What right have you to suppose as
I'm agoin' to waste my money a-giving presents to little brats like
you? Now, out of the way, out of the way. For goodness' sake Polly,
set down and finish stoning 'em raisins. Annie, is that a currant I
see in yer mouth, you bad, greedy girl? I'll whack you, as sure as my
name's Grannie."

Then Grannie disappeared into her room and locked the door amid the
screams of excitement and laughter of the happy children. "I am an old
fool to do it," she said to herself, trembling a good deal, for somehow
she had been feeling very weak the last few days; the constant pain and
anxiety had told upon her. "I am an old fool to spend seven and
sixpence on nothing at all but gimcracks to put into the Christmas
stockings; but there, I must see 'em happy once again--I must--I will.
Afterwards there'll be a dark time, I know; but on Christmas Day it
shall be all light--all light, and cheerfulness, and trust, for the
sake of the dear Lord wot was born a babe in Bethlehem."

Grannie very carefully deposited her parcels in the old-fashioned
bureau which stood in the corner of the tiny bedroom. She locked it up
and put the key in her pocket, and returned to the little sitting room.

Alison was busy trimming her party dress. She had a party dress, and
quite a stylish one. It was made of pink nun's-veiling, which she had
got very cheap as a bargain at Shaw's when the summer sale was over.
The dress was made simply, quite high to the throat, with long sleeves,
but the plain skirt and rather severe-looking bodice, with its frill of
lace round the throat and wrists, gave Alison that curiously refined,
ladylike appearance which was so rare in her station of life. She had
a sort of natural instinct which kept her from overdressing, and she
always looked the picture of neatness. She was furbishing up the lace
on the dress now, and Polly was seated by the little table stoning the
raisins for the Christmas pudding, and gazing with admiration at her
sister all the while. The Christmas bustle and sense of festivity
which Grannie had insisted on bringing into the air, infected everyone.
Even Alison felt rather cheerful; as she trimmed up the old dress she
kept singing a merry tune. If it was her bounden duty to marry Jim--to
return the great love he bore her--to be his faithful and true
wife--then all the calamity of the last few days would be past. Good
luck would once more shine upon her.